Or What
by ChatNoirIsMiraculous
Summary: "Is that a threat Snow?" I lock my gaze with his. "Or what?" I press my body into his, his smirk drops. He raises an eyebrow. I bring our foreheads together. He's staring at my lips. I nudge him and his gaze lifts to my eyes. His slate grey eyes are hooded.
1. Chapter 1

Simon-

The cherry-wood stands of the football pitch are cold with the incoming breeze.

Penny left me about an hour ago. She thinks I'm wasting my time with "obsessive behaviour". I think she underestimates how dangerous Baz is. He's a Grimm-Pitch! They practically breed evil!

My gaze follows Baz as he viciously slide tackles an opposing player. His hair is swept up in a knot. It shows off his widow's peak.

His blue jersey is a bright contrast to his pale skin. I'm freezing in my mittens and overcoat but Baz doesn't show any signs of the cold in his sleeveless uni and shorts.

Coach Mac blows the whistle and calls the practice to an end. Baz's gaze shifts to me and I freeze. After eight seconds (I tick each one off in my head) he turns away, grabbing his water, presumably heading towards the shower. He always showers directly after practice and comes back smelling of bergamont.

Baz-

Snow thinks I don't notice him in the stands watching every practice. Snow's an idiot.

He's been at every single one without fail since February of third year. There he was as usual, in his red beany and white scarf.

Wellbelove must've gotten them for him, there's no way he could afford them for himself and I can't see the Mage browsing in the scarf section.

Snow follows me around like a dog on a very short leash, but as of late he's been following me a lot more closely. Now it's especially hard to feed in the catacombs with him on my tail. I'm half shocked he didn't try and follow me into the shower… I wouldn't mind if he did.

Simon-

When I get back to the room Baz is already there. He's standing in the center of our room, still in his uni.

His skin is tacky with sweat, his hair still pulled back.

Normally he would take about twenty minutes to come back, showered and dressed.

"Baz?"

He rolls his eyes.

"What are you doing here?"

He snorts, "In case it might have slipped you enormous head I happen to live here too."

I glare at him.

He drops his smirk, "Snow the following has gotten more obsessive lately. Is there something you want to say?"

"Fuck off Baz,"

"No," he smirks now that he's rawling me up. "You seem to have so much time on your hands lately." He steps closer to me, so now I can see the grass stains smudged along his knees, "How's Wellbelove doing?"

"Fuck off Baz."

He snorts, "Is that all you can say? _Use your words_ Snow."

I lunge at him. Grabbing the collar of his jersey and pushing him against the wall. His twisted smile never cracks.

"Anthema," he says.

I don't let go of him. "You'll stay away from Agatha."

"Is that a threat Snow?"

I lock my gaze with his.

"Or what?"

I press my body into his, his smirk drops. He raises an eyebrow. I bring our foreheads together. He's staring at my lips. I nudge him and his gaze lifts to my eyes. His slate grey eyes are hooded.

I catch his lower lip in mine. He grabs my face and brings me impossibly closer.

Baz-

Snow grabs me by my hips and I moan into his mouth. He's kissing me possesively. Every kiss screams _mine, mine, mine._ He can have it. All of it. Me.

Simon-

I move my lips against his fiercely, but Baz is just as fast. His hands are in my hair, pulling, twisting. It feels so good. He feels good. Baz.

I pull away.

"Simon?" Baz is breathy.

"You called me Simon."

He rolls his eyes.

"Not that intimidating of a threat."

I bring my right hand up to his face and rest it on his cheek bone. Baz pulls my head forward so that our foreheads are touching again.

We close our eyes.

"I like this better," I say. And I do, this is better than fighting.


	2. Chapter 2

Baz-

I wake up to the smell of smoke and sour cherry scones. My right palm is warm. I turn towards the warmth and see Simon in his morning glory. Rumpled curls and glowing tawney skin. His hand is curled around mine, palm to palm.

This close up, I can see the freckles sprawled across his cheeks, spilled brown sugar on gold. I want to run my hand through his curls. But I can't.

He's so far away. So alive. I'm out of place in this picture. I want to lay in bed until he opens up his gorgeous eyes. But I don't want to be here when the hate enters them. I recuctantly pull my palm away, knowing he'll never hold it again.

He groans as I stand, curling into the warm spot I left behind on the bed.

I fell asleep in my uni last night, and Simon in his evening clothes. I really need a shower, but I'm already running late. My hair is down and greasy (Snow ripped the band out last night). I change into my Watford uniform and brush out my hair, there's not much else I can do.

I knot my tie in the mirror, watching Simon's reflection exclusively as I do so (he's in my bed). I glane at him once more, one final look at a clear sky before a storm, and close the door with a sense of finality.

Simon-

I rush through breakfast in a a clatter of plates. I barely made it in to class on time.

Penny started whispering frantically as soon as I sat down. I shift my gaze to Baz, but his sneer isn't waiting for me. Penny notices where my attention has gone.

"He looks like a mess," she ays.

I smile, "He does." I did that.

His hair is rumpled and he seems overall less put together. Baz never looks like this.

I notice other students staring. Baz notices too and smirks. Attention seeking bastard. He always keeps his gaze away from me. It's driving me crazy. He _can't_ pretend it didn't happen. He can't.

Baz-

I can't believe it happened.

Simon-

I can't go back to the way things were before. Not after getting a taste of the other side...literally, he tastes so good-

Why won't he look at me?!

Baz-

I can feel Snow watching me all day. His gaze like fire, and I'm so flammable. I want to see him, to see the torment I've caused him. To see him flustered and confused. But I won't look into those eyes and see disgust. I _won't_. I'm a coward.

Simon-

I ran into our room as fast as I could after the last bell rang from the chapel.

I sat down on Baz's bed (I slept here-in his arms) then I get up and sit on mine, then I get up again. I'm a bundle of nervous energy. My magic rises to my skin and I try pushing it down.

I miss dinner, but I'm worried that if I leave I might miss Baz. It's dark before the door opens. He doesn't even acknowledge me.

"Baz." I say.

He sighs and my heart drops.

"Baz." He ignores me.

I grab him by his collar and push him to the wall.

"Deja vu Snow," he says. He still won't look at me. I can feel the emptiness swelling in my chest-no. I bring my face close to his, then lift his chin.

"Look at me."

He growls but obliges. His slate eyes are hard and unyielding. He sets his jaw and tenses his body, bracing himself.

Baz-

Now he has me. He could kill me now and I wouldn't make a move to stop him. _I deserve it_ , I think. _Do it already Snow, you never hesitate to make the kill shot. What's taking you so long?_

Snow looks frustrated. The magic has risen to his skin and his touch is scalding. He charges me and I close my eyes waiting for the inevitable.

Warm lips touch mine tenderly. I whimper from the shock, to my horror. I melt into him and grab onto him. Thank Morgana for this wall, I don't think I could hold myself up right now.

Snow has his hands in my hair again. His nails scrape against my scalp and I moan. Simon aligns his mouth with my neck and says, "You can't go back." He presses a kiss in the hollow of my throat. "Not now, not ever." I might cry.

"Baz," he kisses down to my collar bone, "I like you here, with me."

I lift his head and drag his lips back to mine. The kiss is longing and fulfilling all at once.

It turns out I don't need my legs, because Simon swoops me up and places me on _his_ bed. I kiss him on his forehead, then I let him hover above me. Swooping down to kiss me and making me reach up for him.

He's beautiful here. Lusting over me. I drag him to me. His torso is sprawled on top of mine and our legs are tangled. The sunlight is fading, its last rays catching in Simon's hair.

"I finally have you."

Simon kisses my neck and I run my hand through his curls because I _can._


	3. Epilogue

Baz-

Simon Snow won't stop staring at me. I can tell Bunce is getting annoyed.

I drop my pencil. I bend down and make sure he has a good view of my arse as I pick it up. Snogging or not, torturing Snow will always have plenty of appeal. I glance back just in time to see him flipping me off. I laugh, and it feels good for all the right reasons.

Simon-

Baz laughs, no menace, just joy and it makes my heart skip a beat.

I spent all of last night kissing and holding him. He completely opened himself up to me. The steel in his gaze gone.

"You're doing it again," Penny says raising an eyebrow. "You're _mooning_." She smirks.

"Shut up Pen." She snorts matter of factly. I should've known she would see right through me. However, I couldn't of guessed how unsuprised she was. She GUESSED it, I didn't have to say anything as I walked into breakfast this morning. She already knew.

Baz-

I didn't have my last two classes with Simon, so he's particularly excited to see me. He jumps me as soon as he opens the door, not bothering to close it.

"Snow." I pull away, but he pulls me right back. "We're going to get caught if you do that."

He smiles into his next kiss, "Let them see."

I want to melt into him so badly, but the one last scrap of common sense shouts at me to close the door. I back away and walk backwards to the door. Snow follows me like he's stalking prey. I close the door with my heel and Simon is on me again. My back is pressed into the door and I can feel the cool knob brushing my ribcage.

He pushes his fingers through my hair, so that my head falls back, exposing my neck.

"I think you've developed a fetish Snow," I'm smiling. I can't help it. Simon's lips turn up then he presses his mouth to my neck and I moan.

"Simon." He says.

I try to concentrate, "Whaaa-"

Simon laughs, then continues his ministrations. I can cast spells in three languages, but now I can't pull together a single sentence.

I scrunch my brow in concentration, "What."

He kisses my forehead, unfurling it. He raises his head so that I'm looking into his eyes.

"Simon, you called me Simon, Baz."

"You have no proof," I say.

He hums, the brings his mouth back to my neck. He sucks on my soft spot and I moan. The bastard.

He licks the flesh he's been attacking.

"You know," he says breathily, "I bet I could make you say it again." I groan and pull him to me.


End file.
